Trapped
by Sunriserooftops
Summary: The last installment in the 'Killer instinct' series. What happened after There's been better plans ended? Get your answers here!
1. Prologue

Author: Sunriserooftops  
>Title: Trapped<br>Rating: M for violence  
>Fandoms: Southern Vampire Mysteries or True Blood and Supernatural<br>Disclaimer: All rights to their respective owners; Charlaine Harris owns Southern Vampire Mysteries and Eric Kripke owns Supernatural.  
>Warnings: This is the next part after Killer instinct, The Return and There's been better plans<p>

Preface

Once upon a time there was a girl who lost her father. She grew up to be a fighter, the kind of girl who knew how to handle herself and anything that got thrown at her. She grew up with steadfast opinions and convictions, she was sure she was on the right side of things.

Then one day the girl goes off and finds herself a way into a vampire bar in a town called Shreveport. Under the magical spell of lies the girl stayed close to the high and mighty Sheriff of Area 5 - Eric Northman. Until he found out her little charade and demanded to know who she was.

"Joanna Beth Harvelle," she answered him. He told her why she stood out in a crowd, why she was so special. And the next time she saw him, he too became special; To her.

The girl, afraid of being hurt, of finding the closest thing she had to friends - the Winchesters - killing the vampire she had grown to care for, she fled. The girl stayed far away from the vampire with the blond hair and blue eyes and she fought to keep herself away.

One night, despite her efforts, she found herself in Shreveport yet again. She found herself trapped under a streetlight, surrounded by three vicious female vampires who wanted to eat her as well as change her.

The girl had been so sure she was screaming, she had forgotten to open her mouth. She had been so afraid for the blond man fighting for her life, that she forgot all of her own abilities to fight.

And that's the story of how Joanna Beth Harvelle found herself trapped...


	2. Chapter 1

**Trapped**

**1**

Jo stumbled up to the door with her whole body screaming at her to stop moving. She couldn't thought. She didn't know just how she'd gotten here, or even why. But, hearing the music and the people inside she knew she had almost made it. She'd almost made it home. She's actually made it out of the little cramped cell where she had been, how long ago?

The memory of the dank cell made her skin crawl, the darkness and the moisture in the air. She'd felt like she was back in the cell, waiting for Sam and Dean to come rescue her. At times she'd mistaken it for the same cell, the same time and place, but then she heard the redhead talking about her and she knew it wasn't a nightmare of the past. This was a brand new present.

The warm lights flooding out into the deserted parking lot, they made her feel all warm inside. She was just about home.

She put her tired hand to the outside of the door, and since it was this late at night and the door was unlocked, the door pushed open with her body weight and Jo fell, head first, in through the door.

The next thing she remembered was how the bar went silent, a hushed murmur going through the crowd of men and women, and then she heard how chairs scraped against the wooden floor and the feeling of feet shuffling around her. She tried to look up, but the faces were blurry.

"JO!"

Ellen's voice seemed far away and Jo pushed the corner of her mouth up a little, before the world went blank.

She blinked the darkness away and willed herself back into existence. She looked up into the ceiling of her old room.

"Honey?" Ellen's voice, still, seemed far away. Jo blinked and the ceiling came into focus. She tried to think of the last time she'd been lying like this, when her mother had hovered.

It must have been when she'd run off with Dean and Sam in search of that ghost...

The memories of the rotten-smelling cell came back to her and a wave of nausea hit her like a ton of bricks. Her mouth felt like someone had poured a glass of salt water into it and she gasped, right before she bent over the side of her bed and threw up in the bucket Ellen had been smart enough to put there.

She felt a hand gather the hair around her shoulders and another hand stroke her back as there came soft noises in a sweet voice. "It's okay, you're okay, honey, you're okay."

Jo washed her mouth out with some water, drank a glass of it and then leaned back in her bed as she started crying.

oo

Ellen watched her with hawk-eyes for the next day, not sure what it was that made Jo break down and cry every ten minutes, or why her daughter refused to speak. It frustrated her to no end that Jo wouldn't talk to her. And that she refused to eat properly. She ate some soup, maybe picked at a sandwich, but she pushed away anything that resembled real food.

One night, when Ellen snuck in to make sure Jo was still breathing, she heard her mumble something under her breath, right before a scream was ripped from her chest and Ellen took a step back. Jo's eyes flew open, her upper body sitting straight up in bed and she looked bewildered as her sweaty hair hung down over her shoulder, clinging to her face.

"Mom?" Jo breathed and Ellen nodded.

"Right here, honey," she said, and took the step forward again, sitting down on the chair she'd been living at lately.

"Eric. We – you... Find him." Her voice was breathy and like it was scratched up. Her voice broke time and time again, even in the few words she pressed out.

"Jo, honey, who's Eric?" Ellen asked, a sinking feeling in her gut as she looked over her bruised daughter.

"North-"

"Eric Northman?" Ellen asked, and felt her jaw clench.

"Yehh," was the broken answer.

"Did he do this to you?" Ellen asked, her voice suddenly cold and distant.

"No, tried..." She was out of breath all too soon and she sighed heavily before she leaned against the headboard of her bed. "Came to help."

Ellen's jaw dropped. "You were in Shreveport on a hunt and the local vampire sheriff decided to help you? Jo, he's dangerous! He could just as well have turned on you and gotten you killed!"

But Jo shook her head. It was the most Ellen had gotten in days, and therefore she took it as a good sign. Jo seemed more than a little adamant that Eric was no danger to her. Every time Ellen brought it up, Jo shook her head and hissed words about him being kind, helpful and that he helped her.

oo

Jo could speak properly about a week after she'd gotten home. She realized then that she'd nothing with her. Her phone was gone – which meant both Eric's and Pam's numbers were too. She had no idea of where her car was, and that was kind of depressing since it had been a gift from Bobby Singer a while back.

But the thought that scared Jo most of all?

Finding out that Eric Northman was dead – the final death – and that there was no chance of getting him back. In the back of her head she replayed the moment when she'd found out Dean had died. Thankfully, when the idea hit her, she was alone in the shower and she relaxed enough to really just cry.

It would be another day or so before Jo got the idea of calling Pookie – no, wait, Sookie? – or at least finding out who the girl was and where she might be found.

It turned out there was about five Sookies living in Shreveport, and three more in the surroundings. Jo tried to remember snippets of conversation, and remembered Sookie's boyfriend Bill. Bill was a vampire. Bill had a house. Bill was rich. Wasn't all vampires though? she thought and turned all the fact over in her head.

Then she made a call. She called one Sookie Stackhouse.

oo 


	3. Chapter 2

**Trapped**

**2**

When Joanna Beth Harvelle had called, Sookie had wondered who she was and what she wanted. Then she heard the way the girl on the other end spoke – she was slightly out of breath, almost in pain, tired and helpless. She asked about Eric Northman, the vampire sheriff. Sookie had told her that she wasn't allowed to talk about it, and then she had hung up. She knew it was rude, and her grandmother would have been furious with her for being so rude to anyone, especially someone that sounded as desperate as Joanna Beth.

Sookie placed a call though, not on Joanna Beth's behalf, but to make sure she had nothing to worry about. She called her – now – former boyfriend Bill Compton. Bill told her simply that it was none of her business anymore what happened in the vampire community. And then he, without any regret she was sure, decided to hang up on her.

Karma, she thought. She shouldn't have hung up on Joanna Beth, and then maybe Bill hadn't hung up on her.

She made one last effort. She called the vampire bar in Shreveport: Fangtasia.

"Hello, this is Sookie Stackhouse. I'm looking for Pam."

"Not here," came a curt reply.

"How about Eric Northman then? Is he there?"

"No. He's not."

"Is there some other number I could call to get a hold of them-?"

"We're not a phone service and we don't hand out numbers." Then she heard a soft click. The person in the bar hung up on her.

That was twice. Karma really was a bitch.

oo

When Jo had hung up with the Pookie girl – she liked her even less now – she felt totally at a loss. She'd already tried Fangtasia once – and gotten nothing out of it since even the answering machine was turned off.

So, sitting in her room, Jo felt the panic grow in her chest. Last time she'd seen Eric he was about to have a stake put through his heart.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she controlled a sob that was trying to get loose. She would not cry. She would not cry – until she knew where Eric had gone to. She wouldn't!

But until then, she was trapped in ignorance.

oo

Elle didn't know what to do with her daughter.

She'd been moping around for days, so when she picked up her phone and called Bobby Singer, she didn't really know what to ask him about. Or why.

But she did all the same.

"Bobby," the gruff voice answered in greeting and Ellen couldn't help but smile.

"Hey Bobby, it's Ellen."

"Hey, what's up?" he asked and she was reminded of the way Dean had always answered his phone. She regretted not having had more time to get to know those boys...

"It's Jo. She's being very strange, even for Jo."

"Yeah, I heard about what happened at the roadhouse," he said in a quiet voice. "Can't say I was happy about her coming back, if that's the state she was in."

"Yeah, me neither. But at least she's alive..."

The loss of Dean Winchster was still a little too fresh in everyone's mind.

"Yeah. Why'd ya call?"

"Do you remember a few years back, that hunt in Louisiana? There was someone who helped out there, someone no one spoke of. I know you were there Bobby, and I want you to answer me honestly," she demanded.

"I'll do what I can," he said, reliable as always.

"Eric Northman," and with the intake of breath on the other end, she knew she'd been right. "Which side was he on?"

"He wasn't on a side, Ellen. Eric Northman was the entire show."

"What do you mean?"

Bobby sighed, and then he reluctantly told her. "Eric Northman very well knew the vampires in question, and he helped the hunt – us – who were looking for them. But he ran the show, we were all his little puppets. He said jump, we – even the vampires – asked how high. It was a circus. We always assumed it had been a way for him to get his jollies..."

"Jo says he helped her. That he tried to save her, and, that's where she closes up."

"Doesn't sound like him," Bobby said. And Ellen sort of agreed.

oo

She'd gone out and gotten a new phone, one with her old number attached to it. She had called to check on her voice-mail but hadn't remembered the code so angrily she'd thrown the phone on her bed and ignored it for a few days.

She hated being in the dark. Even her own phone kept her in the dark!

Jo wanted to get back on the roads, wanted to hunt again. But her mother said all her cuts weren't healed yet. She agreed that her face didn't look at it's prettiest and in the shower she often wondered if the wounds on her legs, arms and stomach would ever heal properly or if there would be scars as nasty as the wounds had been when they were new.

The more Jo stayed at home, or helped out in the bar, the more trapped she was feeling. It was unbearable and even though she tried to make herself busy and she looked high and low for a way to get in touch with Eric, she was starting to feel disheartened.

That's when she remembered the code to her voice-mail.

She called it up, typed it in, and then she breathed in deeply while feeling her heart slamming in her chest. Each beat was so hard, as if it was meant to break her ribcage.

Three messages from her friends later, she was really starting to lose hope. But.

"Jo," he said and all the air she'd drawn in wooshed out of her lungs and she stared at the wall of her room. "I'm, I've been trying to reach you. You will not pick up your phone. Why? Joanna Beth, you better be alive."

She must have been pale as a ghost when Ellen opened her door to ask her what she wanted for dinner, still clutching her phone.

"What's wrong?" Ellen asked, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Nothing," Jo smiled. "He's alive."

oo 


	4. Chapter 3

**Trapped**

**3**

Pam was getting annoyed. Eric was pacing, and it was more than a little disturbing to her.

"Why does she not call?" he growled at her as she moved – this was why she didn't like on-edge Eric. He over-enunciates everything, growls and paces, more than normal, she thought, all of which I hate when he does.

She smiled at him. "Maybe she is protecting you?"

"Protecting me? HA!" He scoffed and muttered under his breath, "-would be absurd! Me – I'm – me is the one of the two of us who is stronger," he said, stumbling over the words and the sentence coming out a jumble that was mostly right. She shook her head, thinking about how this blonde had gotten under his skin in the strangest way Pam had ever seen.

Eric had been riveted by Sookie the moment he saw her, and there had been plenty of blondes in the past that had held a certain fascination to Eric – herself included. But Joanna Beth, she had been different. He had seen beyond her blond hair and pretty eyes and he had seen something in her that he shared. Something he once upon a time had changed Pam for having.

A killer's instinct.

"So call her."

Again. But that part was an unspoken teasing.

Eric on-edge did not need any kind of provocation. And teasing would be provocation in his mind. She almost wished she was somewhere else.

"How can I? I have called her twice already," he said, and he was sounding as if it would be inappropriate for a man to call a woman so many times. He really was of the old world. Still.

"You dial the number," Pam said, and before he could snap at her, she left the room.

oo

Eric was a wreck.

In every language he knew, he was a wreck.

He had been so upset at finding Jo gone when he came to, he'd been a loose canon for days. Weeks. Still was. If he hadn't been sheriff, someone would have considered him a danger and taken him out by now. He would have taken him out if he'd been a vampire he came in contact with, he didn't doubt it one little bit.

He picked up his phone, knowing Pam was right after all. He might still think that pursuing a woman quite so openly was inappropriate, that he had played his part and that he now should wait for a little while before calling her again. But somewhere in the midst of all this, he knew he should call her again. He should call her until she answered or someone answered.

What was with him?

He shook it off and dialed her number. One second, two...

"Eric?" Her voice came quickly and despite him not having breathed in almost a thousand years, he let out a breath.

"Jo! Var fan har du varit? Vet du hur jävla orolig jag har varit? Kan du bara försöka förstå vad jag trodde hade hänt dig-"

"I don't understand a word you're saying!" Jo shouted at him, interrupting him as well as trying to make herself heard over his loud rant. He took a breath again. Trying to calm himself. He was failing. Miserably.

"Where the hell have you been?"

There was a loaded pause which made him think there was probably more to the story than she was going to tell him. He wondered how he would be able to get it out of her, and what he should say to make it easier...

"Home."

He rolled his eyes, something he rarely, if ever, did. "Home? Why does that sound not right?"

"Does not sound right," she corrected him and he snorted into the phone.

"You and your silly grammar, would you forget my phrasing for once and just tell me where you were?" His voice raised and the last bit came out as more of a growl than anything else.

"I don't know where I was before that. But I'm home now."

"And you are all right?"

He kept pacing, and he almost felt himself wear a hole in the rug.

"Yes. Fine," she said, but there was still that pause. She was lying.

"You might be a hunter, Joanna Beth, but you are a very bad liar."

"No I'm not!" she huffed, sounding really offended. "I am the best damn liar in a 50 mile radius, but-" She swallowed loudly. "I have some cuts and bruises, nothing that won't heal in time."

"Do you, in any way shape or form, have any idea how worried I have been?" he asked, closing his eyes hard and pinching the bridge of his nose. "All that blood, Jo..."

He heard a sob on the other end. That's when he knew she'd been worried too.

oo

Pam was listening to Eric screaming, ranting, huffing and even his voice breaking, through the door and she was smiling the entire time. Somehow she knew this would change things. He had finally realized that he cared for someone other than himself and his business. He cared for someone he should, by the laws of nature, despise. It made Pam giddy to think of him finally, after all these years, in love!

She even made a little dance, as she was all alone, where she almost clapped her hands and danced around. All the while she listened to the conversation on the other side of the door.

Eric had settled. He was sitting down. His voice was calmer. He was almost reasonable she thought. It seemed to be going well. She sat down on a chair and leafed through a paper when she heard him say goodbye and come towards the door in a much more behaved manner.

"You..." He pursed his lips and then he started over. "You were right."

"I should get this in writing," Pam whispered and offered a smile. He smiled back, closing his eyes as he shook his head. "So, Joanna Beth is all right? She is in fact alive?"

"Yes," he asked, as his lips quivered in the oddest way.

"Are we going to see her sometime soon?"

He didn't answer. He just went upstairs to his bedroom. She heard the door shut and the faucet in the bathroom running. She narrowed her eyes and glared at the stairs.

Something was definitely up.

oo 


End file.
